


in search of silver linings (we discovered gold)

by swansaloft



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Humor, Romance, lots of Tropes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-21 06:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11938077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swansaloft/pseuds/swansaloft
Summary: Sometimes, it’s not about the destination; it’s about how you get there.And in this case, their journey is going to take a turn through blind dates, Ferris wheels, and a really big boat.(Or, The One Where Regina and Emma go on a couples’ cruise as Totally Platonic Friends.)





	in search of silver linings (we discovered gold)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/gifts).



> Thank you SO MUCH to the wonderful SQ Supernova team! I am immensely grateful for all the work you have done and continue to do. Y'all ROCK! ♥
> 
> Make sure you check out the amazing [matching art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775393) by my fantastically talented artist, [mippippippi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mippippippi/pseuds/mippippippi)!

_Our lives are stories waiting to be told_

_In search of silver linings, we discovered gold_

“Sinners” by Lauren Aquilina

 

 

  


“Are you two dating yet?”

 

Emma chokes on her wine, which actually turns out to be a blessing in disguise, as it gets her out of responding to her mother's question. Instead, Regina answers, “Us?” in a voice half an octave higher than her natural tone, while Emma continues to sputter weakly.

 

“Yes, _you_. I don't see anyone else in the room.” Snow leans forward, a conspiratorial grin on her lips. “So, 'fess up. Any special men in your lives I don't know about?”

 

Strangely, breathing suddenly gets a whole lot easier. Emma sucks in a couple nice, deep breaths while she continues to ponder, takes a quick sip of her wine, and finally says, reluctantly, “Well, there is one...”

 

She deliberately trails off just to torment her mother, but in her peripheral vision, she sees Regina's head whip toward her.

 

“Really?” Snow gasps, delighted, but Regina's face is a mask when Emma catches her gaze.

 

“You hadn't mentioned anyone.” She's trying to play it casual, but there's an odd tension behind the nonchalance. Emma knows her well enough by now to notice this.

 

She notices every damn thing about Regina Mills, really. At this point, it's as natural as breathing. It's a pretty cool thing, really, having a best friend. Being so in tune with them and caring about their needs, but not feeling pressured to change herself in order to meet them.

 

Of course, she's also pretty sure it's not supposed to take this much effort to actively resist being ass-backwards in love with your best friend. And, well. It does, but she _isn't_.

 

Mostly.

 

But regardless of Emma's feelings – or lack thereof – Regina's one of the most stable things in her life, and most of the time, she can read the other woman like a book.

 

Thanks to that skill, she can tell Regina is totally buying this, which makes the whole thing twice as funny, and Emma has to exert actual effort to keep a straight face.

 

“Well, he's a real gentleman.” Snow sighs, because of course she does. “Sweet, artistic, gets more handsome every time I see him. He does still laugh at fart jokes, though, so we're working on that.” Emma shakes her head as if lamenting, and she feels more than sees Regina rolling her eyes.

 

“Henry doesn't count,” Snow pouts.

 

“ _You_ laugh at fart jokes more than Henry does,” Regina adds peevishly, and Emma ignores her. If Regina wants to remain willfully ignorant of the fact that they are, in fact, co-parenting a teenage boy, well, more power to her.

 

“Emma, I really think you should consider getting back out there.”

 

“Mom, seriously. It's just not a good time.”

 

Snow shakes her head, her wine sloshing dangerously close to the rim. They might be at the loft right now – with David and Neal under strict instructions not to return home until ten sharp – rather than Mifflin, but Regina still eyes the red like an eagle, practically forbidding it from spilling over onto the cream carpet.

 

“I'm worried about you! Both of you! It's been over a year since-”

 

“Since I ran out on my own wedding, and my former fiancé fled town?” Emma breaks in, smiling with faux enthusiasm.

 

“Since my soulmate was obliterated and I sent his Doppelganger back to another realm?” Regina adds in the same tone.

 

Snow straightens her spine and clears her throat primly. “Yes. And since you,” she nods meaningfully at Regina, “learned how to accept yourself and figured out how to reunite your two halves. And since you,” Snow turns to Emma, “determined what you didn't want and decided you would only go after what you truly _did_ want. Wasn't that what you told me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So, don’t you want to be happy?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Then why-”

 

“I don’t need a _man_ to be happy, Mom! Neither of us do,” Emma adds, nodding at Regina, who makes this expression that might be supportive, might be annoyance at having some of the attention shoved back on her.

 

In tune or not, sometimes Regina can still be annoyingly inscrutable.

 

“A woman, then?”

 

“Mom. The _point_ ,” Emma says, trying not to stumble over her words, because what the _fuck_ is her heart doing right now. “is that romantic relationships aren’t the only things that make people happy. Not everyone wants that.”

 

“So, what do you want?” Snow asks, as though the answer is as simple as asking the question. As though she thinks Emma has everything figured out.

 

Which, _ha_.

 

So she simply shrugs and says, “What I’ve got now,” and it’s true. Though there are the occasional moments when she’s alone with Regina and she does that thing where she laughs or smiles just so, and Emma almost, _almost_ falls back into that No-Go Zone she’s worked so hard to get out of.

 

“Emma-”

 

Emma holds up a hand. “No, Mom, I mean it. I have amazing family, amazing friends, and a pretty busy job. Even if I wanted to date, I don’t really have the time for it right now.”

 

Snow’s face falls, but she perks back up again when she turns in Regina’s direction, eyes shining with hope. “Regina? What about you?”

 

“Emma said it already, really. Between raising Henry and running a town, I don’t have time for much else.”

 

“No, no, no!” Snow exclaims, her wine flirting with the top of the glass again. “You can’t just give up hope! Being busy is no excuse for hiding from true love.”

 

“We’re not hiding,” Emma says.

 

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Regina adds.

 

Emma and Regina share a look and a small nod, establishing solidarity against the ridiculousness that is Emma’s slightly intoxicated mother. Unfortunately, there are no dart boards nearby to distract her this time. Emma looks around for anything she could fashion into a makeshift one. There’s that hideous bird collage Snow is so fond of, but she would probably kill Emma tomorrow after she found out. Or, worse, make Emma drive out of town to the nearest Kirkland’s to buy her another one.

 

Emma decides against that approach and is contemplating some sort of variation of Pin the Tail on the Donkey using Neal’s alphabet magnets on the fridge, when Snow suddenly lets out the world’s biggest sigh.

 

“I just want what’s best for the both of you. You know that, right?” Snow says, and shit, her eyes tear up, and she is very nearly at the weepy, mushy stage of Snow Drunkenness.

 

“I know,” Emma says consolingly, and when Snow leans in for a hug, Regina deftly relieves her of her wine glass and goes to set it on the kitchen counter.

 

“I love you, baby girl,” Snow breathes against her neck, still hugging her like there’s no tomorrow, and Emma is slightly touched but mostly just uncomfortable. Thankfully, the door opens just then, and her father appears with Neal in tow.

 

“We come bearing testosterone!” David proclaims as he enters, and Emma rolls her eyes and laughs.

 

“Welcome home. Excellent timing.”

 

Snow backs away from her, her eyes zeroing in on her husband and son. “David! Neal! My two favorite men!”

 

She practically runs at them with open arms, and Emma and Regina snicker from a safe distance when David makes a face at them over Snow’s shoulder.

 

A few minutes later, Snow is tucked safely into bed, and Emma and Regina are headed down the landing.

 

“Need a ride?” Regina offers, seeing Emma’s bug isn’t parked outside. She accepts, knowing that one glass is all Regina can ever stomach of the overly sweet wine Snow favors. And because she kind of wants to talk about something that’s been brewing in her head the past several minutes.

 

“Do you think she has a point?” Emma blurts before Regina gets her door unlocked, and she lets her keys fall to her side as she turns back to Emma.

 

“What, about us dating?”

 

Emma’s heart skips a beat again, which is, well. Not entirely unexpected, even though she _knows_ what Regina means. Just. Old habits and all that.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What do you think?” Regina asks cautiously.

 

“I think...I think that’s how I got into trouble before. By trying to be happy the way I thought I was supposed to, instead of just letting it happen. But on the other hand...it couldn’t hurt. I might want to do it, actually. If only to try something new.”

 

Emma _also_ thinks that it might be good for her in other ways. The Regina Thing That Totally Isn’t a Thing is a dead end, as it has always been, and her recent flare up is probably nothing more than a product of loneliness, boredom, and lack of options.

 

Plus, it could be fun. New life experience is always a good thing.

 

Except when it involves danger to her family. Or raging villains. Or unplanned trips to other realms. Those life experiences can suck it.

 

But this kind is supposedly good, so she should try it.

 

She’s kind of annoyed that she’ll probably have to miss Swan-Mills Family Movie Night for a date, but maybe she can specify that she’s never available on Sunday nights.

 

Family is her highest priority, after all. She’ll be damned before she is ever made to feel guilty about that. Never again.

 

“Hmm,” Regina says, finally opening her door, and gesturing Emma toward the other side. They both get in and are on the way to Emma’s house when Regina speaks again.

 

“Did you have anyone in mind?” she asks. “Flynn Rider, perhaps? I saw the two of you all cozy at the diner the other day.”

 

Emma turns toward her, surprised. “Really? You didn’t mention it.”

 

“Well, neither did you. I thought you might be wanting to keep it...what is it you and Henry say? On the down-low?”

 

“It’s ‘on the DL,’ if you _really_ want to sound like one of the cool kids,” Emma replies, grinning, and she turns to face the road again. “But not really. He just asked to join me while I was eating my lunch, and I agreed. He’s hot, I guess, but he definitely knows it. And there wasn’t really a spark. I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe I really will let my mom set me up with someone.”

 

“I’m sure that will make her day,” Regina comments drily.

 

“You have no idea,” Emma laughs.

 

“I can picture it. That’s more than enough for me.”

 

They lapse into a thoughtful silence as they pass quiet homes in the dark, and Emma chews her lip.

 

“What about you?” Emma ventures.

 

“What about me?”

 

“You ever think of...you know, getting doing the whole dating thing again?”

 

Regina gives a half-hearted shrug as she pulls to the curb and idles in front of Emma’s house.

 

“Occasionally.”

 

“I just thought that if my agreeing to a set-up would send her over the moon, then _both_ of us agreeing…” Emma lets the thought trail off, and Regina laughs softly.

 

“She wouldn’t even know what to do with herself.”

 

“Exactly,” Emma agrees with a grin. It fades as she lets her thoughts get more serious for a moment. “Plus-” she breaks off, hesitating.

 

“Plus what?”

 

She twists a little in Regina’s direction, and Regina does the same, seeming to sense that Emma has something important to say. She can barely see Regina’s eyes in the darkness, but the street lamp outside the door casts a halo of light around her head. She feels an absurd urge to grab Regina’s hand that still rests nearest to her on the steering wheel, but she resists, twisting her own hands in her lap instead. “I vowed once to get you your happy ending. And I still will. I still want that for you.”

 

Regina starts to say something, but Emma holds up a hand.

 

“Just...let me get this out, okay? If you’re completely happy the way things are, then that’s awesome. I’ll consider it mission accomplished and back off. Don’t think I’m trying to pressure you into anything or turn you into some sort of project. God knows that’s never gone well for either of us. But...but I also don’t want you sitting home alone, thinking that Robin was your only chance at happiness. Or worse, that you don’t deserve to try again. Because you _do_.” Emma’s throat feels suddenly thick, and she has to clear it before she can continue. “You’re amazing, and you deserve to have someone who recognizes that.”

 

Regina stares at her, her face inscrutable in the darkness, and Emma’s heart bangs in her chest.

 

“My happiness is that important to you?”

 

Emma blinks, taken aback. “Of course.” She flashes a grin. “As your self-appointed best friend, I consider it my sacred duty to help you reach full happiness potential.”

 

Regina’s expression shifts just a bit, and she mulls it over for a long moment. “Nothing serious. Just a date.”

 

“Exactly. No commitments, just for fun.”

 

Regina nods slowly. “Alright. I’ll try it. Why not?”

 

“Awesome! Good for you, taking a chance.”

 

“Well, you can never go wrong taking life advice from ABBA, right?” Regina quips.

 

“Absolutely. So, when can I expect a demonstration of your dancing queen skills?”  


“I am well beyond 17, dear. And I was a _real_ queen.”

 

“That just means you probably had better moves.”

 

“Yes. To which you’ll never be privy,” Regina says with a smirk, nodding meaningfully at the passenger side door.  
  
“Damn.”

 

With that, Emma gets out of the car, waves goodbye, and watches as Regina drives away.

 

##

 

Four days later, Emma is on a date with a very nice man.

 

He is.

 

Really.

 

Roger has excellent manners and a great smile, and he loves dogs, which is a point in his favor.

 

Regina pretends to be ambivalent toward dogs, but Emma sees how she gets when those stupid Sarah MacLachlan commercials come on. And Emma also caught her watching puppy videos on YouTube once. She’s pretty sure Regina just puts on the act because she doesn’t want Henry randomly coming home one day with Dalmatian triplets.

 

But she’s not the one on a date with Regina right now.

 

No, that role belongs to Flynn Rider, whose amazingly thick head of hair Emma can see one row over and two tables up, partially obscuring her view of Regina in a stunning deep blue dress. He’s been in town less than a month, but he’s already infamous among the men-preferring Storybrooke folk. Even Snow had commented on his “smolder” when she called earlier to fill Emma in on all the details for their dates tonight.

 

It is really alright, though, because Emma knows Regina. She knows that Regina wants someone more substantive, will not be wooed by a pretty face-

 

Except now she’s laughing. One of her real laughs, too, not a fake first date laugh, and Emma frowns.

 

No, smiles. She should be smiling. It’s good that Regina is enjoying her date. Emma consciously corrects her expression. You can’t blame her, really. It isn’t that she isn’t happy for Regina. She’s just protective. Regina deserves the world, and she has had far too much heartbreak in her life already. Emma will do anything in her power to keep it from happening again.

 

For now, she seems to be just having fun, which is good. It had been the whole idea of these dates in the first place.

 

Speaking of which, Emma finally remembers she’s on one of those herself, and she purposefully turns her focus to Roger again. He is pulling out his phone to show her pictures of his Dalmatian puppies. He has four of them - four! Regina would have a heart attack - one of which has no spots at all, even though the others all have them by now. There are enough pictures to keep Emma’s eyes off of Regina for a solid minute.

 

She is congratulating herself on this accomplishment when a movement catches her eye. She looks over to see Flynn reaching for Regina’s hand over the table.

 

Okay, _no_.

 

Clearly this guy has boundary issues. Who the hell tries to hold hands with their blind date after twenty minutes? Honestly. Emma tries to catch Regina’s eye to see if she’ll signal that she is in distress and needs interference. Regina doesn’t seem to notice. But she also doesn’t seem to be particularly enjoying the hand-holding. Her smile has gone a little frozen, and Emma frowns. That’s it.

 

Emma slides her phone out of her purse and tries to covertly text Regina to ask her if she needs an emergency exit plan. She grumbles under her breath when the phone slips from her fingers and lands under the table with a _thud_.

 

“Do you need to get that?” Roger inquires, looking slightly amused. “I don’t mind,”

 

Of course he doesn’t. Roger might be nice, but he also seems like maybe he’s the type of dude with no real opinions. Emma can’t stand those people.

 

“Yeah, sorry, just a sec.” She ducks down and fishes her phone off the floor, and dashes off the text above the table like a normal, if slightly impolite, human being.

 

She watches as Regina glances down her her phone and then up at Emma and then smiles this tiny, enigmatic smile, and what is that supposed to mean?

 

Emma frowns, and Regina shakes her head subtly, twice, then turns back to Flynn (who, Emma notices, has both his hands back on his side of the table).

 

Well, apparently she misread that one. Huh.

 

She turns her attention back to Roger and his puppies, which really are adorable. Emma exclaims over them appropriately, and soon enough, their entrees arrive. Their waitress, whose name tag reads _Anita_ , catches sight of Roger’s phone as she places their plates in front of them. She says something about _her_ Dalmatian, and then she and Roger are gabbing like old friends, and Emma takes the opportunity to sneak a glance at Regina and Flynn.

 

They are still waiting on their food, but Regina is smiling her real smile again. Good. As long as this guy doesn’t try to push any boundaries, and he keeps Regina happy, maybe it’ll be okay. He could be just what they’re looking for.

 

He’s a little smooth for Emma’s taste, but maybe Regina is into that. Emma tears the end off her breadstick and shoves it into her mouth while she continues to observe them.

 

With one last word about Roger’s puppies, Anita leaves them alone again, and Emma wonders briefly if there was some weird loophole in Regina’s curse back in the day that only transported Dalmatians.

 

##

 

“We should come up with some kind of code word for our dates next week,” Regina says the next day, entering her office without knocking.

 

Emma blinks, setting her fork back down in her Tupperware. “What?”

 

“A code word. Something we can say or text each other or mouth across the room. To indicate if the date isn’t going well. That way we won’t be distracted by wondering if the other is okay like we were yesterday.”

 

Emma is vaguely amused that Regina feels this is important enough to warrant a “plan,” but it actually is a pretty good idea.

 

She tries to focus on that, on the logic. Not the way she feels warm all over about the fact that Regina had been equally as distracted by Emma as Emma had been with her.

 

It’s not even a Feelings thing. Just that...weird, not-entirely-comfortable sensation she sometimes gets when she thinks about the fact that she has people who care about her _that much_.

 

Emma shakes it off.

 

“Did you have anything particular in mind?”

 

“Not specifically. Something that wouldn’t normally come up in conversation.”

 

Emma mulls it over for a moment.

 

“Hmm. How about...ginormous?”

 

Regina shoots her a thoroughly unimpressed look.

 

“You know how I feel about portmanteaux, Emma.”

 

“Exactly. You would never use it, and I’ve learned never to say it around you.”

 

“You say it around me all the time.”

 

“Yes, but only on purpose, to annoy you. I never do it unintentionally. This would just be...differintentionally,” Emma says, trying to keep her expression earnest, but she knows it stretches into a smirk. Regina glares at her half-heartedly.

 

“You’re a menace, you know that?”

 

Emma sighs in faux lament. “Too bad. I read on the internet that if you’re friends with someone for more than three years - which we have been, I might add - it means you’re officially friends for life.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes.

 

“Where on earth did you read that? That tumbling site again?”

 

“Snow’s Pinterest board, actually. I was really bored at work the other day.” Regina looks like she’s about to break in with some comment about more efficient ways to utilize work hours, so Emma rushes on without giving her an opening. “But that’s beside the point! Said point being: It’s been more than three years, so looks like you’re stuck with me now.”

 

She expects some sort of snarky comment, but instead, Regina just looks at her, head tilted just slightly to the side, while an unexpectedly warm, gentle smile grows on her face. It isn’t particularly large or enthusiastic, just a soft expression with a touch of wry humor and a whole lot of emotion that has Emma feeling Things she hurriedly tries to shove away.

 

But it’s hard when Regina says, “There are worse things, I suppose,” and takes a step forward so she can reach out and touch Emma’s shoulder like she does sometimes, and Emma very inconveniently forgets how to breathe. She tries to laugh, but it comes out kind of a garbled mess, and Regina is laughing except she isn’t laughing at all, and she’s _still touching Emma’s shoulder_. They just stay that way for a couple seconds, and Regina opens her mouth-

 

\- and says nothing at all, because Zelena suddenly storms into the building with some random complaint for the third time that week. Oddly, she is much more quickly assuaged when she realizes that Emma is the only one on duty today, since she and Mulan switched shifts.

 

She takes Emma’s brush off with surprisingly good humor, and turns out to exit the same way she came.

 

She briefly pauses right before she lets Emma’s office door shut behind her.

 

“Do carry on with...whatever was happening here,” she says with a wink, then disappears, and Emma blushes and stammers, and Regina straightens her suit jacket, and they take a couple steps backward from each other, and all is back to normal.

 

It is really better for Emma’s mental state anyway.

 

##

 

A few days later, Emma and Regina are driving with Roger and Flynn to an amusement park in a town about an hour down the road. Because...well, Emma doesn’t really know why, but she suspects Snow must have some hand in it, as no one over the age of fifteen goes on a date to an amusement park.

 

“Meet back here in three hours?” Flynn says, and they all confirm with nods.

 

Emma and Regina share a covert look and both pat their cell phones through their pockets: Operation Ginormous - Emma can practically hear Regina gritting her teeth - is a go.

 

They go their separate ways, and though Emma checks her phone periodically, an emergency text never arrives. She’s stuck with Roger, which is more than a little uncomfortable, as it becomes increasingly clear they have very little in common.

 

He’s in finance. _Finance_. Ugh.

 

An hour into the date, they’re on the Ferris wheel, and she’s staring at Roger’s profile while he looks out at the scenery, briefly pondering what it might be like to kiss him.

 

And she decides then and there that this will be their last date.

 

Because she feels...absolutely nothing. Possibly a little revolted, actually, and something inside her just feels _wrong_ at the idea.

 

It also might be the fact that he suggested splitting her Dippin’ Dots, because _honestly_.

 

Whatever the final reason, she drops it on him while they’re at the very top, and the moment she says it, it’s like a curse has been broken.

 

He laughs at her for breaking things off in the most romantic spot in the park, and the awkward tension evaporates almost immediately, both of them clearly relieved at not having to force something they’re not feeling.

 

She learns that even though he works in finance, he also composes music in his spare time. She tells him funny stories: about the time Regina accidentally - or so she claims - turned Emma’s hair green for a day, and about the time Henry decided they should go on a canoe trip as a family and they wound up capsizing.

 

“Word of advice? If you ever have a thirteen-year-old son, and he decides he wants to stand up in the middle of a canoe and reenact Titanic? Don’t let him.”

 

She and Roger probably won’t be lifelong besties, but at least she won’t have to jump into alleys when she sees him coming in the future.

 

The next two hours pass quickly, and while they’re winding up the path to meet the others, Emma speaks once more. “Sorry again about tonight. I probably should’ve canceled beforehand, but I made a promise to someone that I would try the dating thing and-”

 

He holds up a hand. “No explanation necessary, and no hard feelings.” He pauses a moment and then keeps his eyes straight ahead as he adds, “And I won’t tell him.”

 

Emma frowns. “Won’t tell who what?”

 

Roger gestures at Flynn and Regina who have just materialized from the crowd a couple dozen yards away.

 

“That you’d rather be on that date.”

 

“With Flynn?” Emma scoffs, forcing an awkward laugh. “Hardly.”

 

“Mmmm, not who I meant,” he says playfully, and Emma deflects by going on the offensive.

 

“Yeah, well. You should ask out Anita.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Our waitress from Tony’s.”

 

His blush gives away the fact that he definitely already knew who she was talking about.

 

“Maybe I will.”

 

“Good.”

 

They pause in front of the exit and turn to wait for Regina and Flynn to reach them.

 

“Maybe you should, too.”

 

“Thanks for the advice. It was nice knowing you, Roger,” Emma says with a lopsided smile, holding out a hand, and he shakes it, laughing.

 

“Nice knowing you, too, Emma Swan.”

 

##

 

Regina has exactly one more date with Flynn, bringing their total up to three, before she breaks it off.

 

“Why people think dating is fun is beyond me,” Regina says late one night, a few days after their parting.

 

It’s a rare night when Henry is sleeping over at a friend’s, and they have the house to themselves for Family Movie Night. They’d pulled out a couple of R-rated ones they never watch when Henry’s around. Over the course of the evening, more than half the package of fig newtons Emma had brought over had been eaten (unsurprising, as she knows they’re Regina’s guilty pleasure), and much more than their share of Regina’s homemade cider had been consumed.

 

Regina is lounging with her feet over the side of the couch - a sure sign she’s tipsy - and Emma is sprawled in the lounge chair a couple feet away, lazily swirling the remnant of her last drink.

 

“Not a fan?”

 

“No! It’s stupid. You can’t just... _force_ these things to happen. What’s the point of trying? It’s awkward and contrived and a waste of time.”

 

She flings an arm dramatically in a way that kind of reminds Emma of Snow, but Regina will probably murder her if she mentions it.

 

“Tell us how you really feel, Regina,” Emma says instead, laughing.

 

“I’m serious! I’ve only tried the casual dating thing one other time, before Henry. And frankly, once every decade and a half is more than enough for me.”

 

“It can be fun!” Emma insists, a half-remembered parade of men and women flashing through her head, from her past life, drinks and dancing at clubs in the days when just the thought of it didn’t make her prematurely tired. Those had probably been more like hook-ups technically, not exactly what Regina is talking about, and Emma isn’t drunk enough to pretend she is some kind of romance expert. But still, she’s pretty sure it hadn’t all been hell - aside from the high heels, which always were. There must have been _something_ redeeming about it.

 

“With the right person,” she amends. That’s probably what makes the difference.

 

“And large quantities of alcohol?” Regina asks wryly.

 

“Well, that certainly doesn’t hurt,” Emma grins, holding up her glass in salute, and Regina laughs.

 

Soon enough they fall asleep, forget about the whole thing, and life in Storybrooke pretty much passes normally for the next three months.

 

Until one shiny June day when Emma wakes up to a very cryptic text from her mother. Emma yawns and rubs her hand over her face, annoyed that she still has six minutes before her alarm would normally go off.

 

She runs to the bathroom and brushes her teeth entirely out of a passive aggressive need to make her mom wait as payback for the timing. She finishes and wipes away any excess toothpaste on the back of her arm. Now minty fresh, she finally picks up her phone, stabs at her contacts, and waits for Snow to answer the phone.

 

“Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

 

“Hello, my beautiful daughter. How are you this morning?” Her voice is, of course, perky as hell.

 

“Would’ve been better with a few more minutes of sleep, but what’s new?” Emma answers mildly. “What did you need?”

 

“I just wanted to know if you had any lunch plans for today? I thought it might be nice to have some mom and daughter bonding time.”

 

“Uh. Don’t think I have anything special. We can do lunch if you want. Is that really all you needed?”

 

“Yep!” Snow chirps merrily, and she is absolutely lying, but Emma isn’t going to get anything out of her until lunch. And at this exact moment in time, she doesn’t particularly care. Whatever it is can wait until she’s had some coffee.

 

##

 

They meet up for lunch at Granny’s, by which time Emma is in a significantly better mood.

 

“Hey, Mom,” Emma says, and they exchange pleasantries and stories about their day so far. It doesn’t take long on Emma’s part, as hers has consisted of rescuing a kitten from a tree and filling out a report on said rescue. Not exactly the most exhilarating shift she’s ever had.

 

Once their food arrives, Snow grows oddly casual and drops the line, “Oh, by the way, I invited Regina to join us a little later. Is that okay?”

 

Emma’s appetite drains as quickly as her concern rises, and she lowers a fry back down onto the plate.

 

“Of course. Since when would you need my permission to invite Regina to lunch?”

 

“I just wanted to be sure. You two are still close?”

 

Emma frowns. “You know we are. Why? What’s going on?”

 

Snow takes a small bite of her salad, chews it pensively, and swallows before she answers.

 

“Okay. I may have done something rash. _But_ I think potential for something wonderful has come out of it, so I would like for you to try to look at it from that perspective.”

 

The nerves cease, and now Emma’s just suspicious, narrowing her eyes over her burger. “What did you do?”

 

“Remember, positive perspective.”

 

“ _Mom_.”

 

Snow looks slightly abashed when she finally answers. “I bought tickets for you and Roger and Regina and Flynn. For a couples’ cruise to Hawaii.”

 

“ _What_?” Emma’s voice is much louder than she intended, but she’s just...the word “flabbergasted” appears in her head for possibly the first time in her life, but she doesn’t say it aloud.

 

Instead, she lowers her voice to avoid attracting any more attention. “Why the hell would you do that?” she hisses across the table. “We went on two dates! Months ago!”

 

“You said the first date went well! _And_ you agreed to a second! I figured you were both just humoring me at first, but the second one gave me hope that it could be real for both of you. Then I was checking my email, one thing led to another, and before you know it, I’d bought you guys tickets.”

 

“Cruise tickets. For four,” Emma deadpans. “That’s a hell of an impulse buy.”

 

She shrugs. “I had a Groupon.”

 

Emma blinks.

 

“...A Groupon.”

 

Snow waves a hand. “There was this whole two-for-one deal, and I just got so excited! And they’re non-refundable. I already called and asked.”

 

Emma chews a bite of her burger and swallows once, twice. “So, when is this cruise, exactly?”

 

“In two weeks.”

 

“And there are four rooms on there already paid for, just waiting for us.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Only two.”

 

Emma cocks her head. “You said-”

 

“Darling, I’m not under any impression that by three months into a relationship, you wouldn’t be physically intimate. Why, your father and I-”

 

“Whoa!” Emma rears back and holds up both hands, nearly losing the tomato from her burger in the process. “I can’t even tell you how much I want you to stop talking right now.”

 

Her mother shrugs primly, and Emma blanches.

 

“ _Anyway_. I guess it’s not the end of the world. A vacation could be nice,” she muses. “As long as Regina’s available, we could take Henry and make it a family thing.”

 

“Um,” Snow breaks in. “Actually, since it’s a couples’ cruise, there are no guests allowed under 21.”

 

“Seriously? What exactly is your master plan, then? ‘Cause there’s no way in hell I’m going on a ten-day-long blind date, even for you.”

 

“Did I suggest that?”

 

“No, but-”

 

“I think you should go with Regina.”

 

“Wh-what?” Emma stammers, her annoyed rant flying right out of her head. “What do you- we’re not-”

 

“As friends, obviously,” Snow gives her a _duh, silly_ look. “The two of you don’t take nearly enough time off. Think about it. Two rooms all to yourself, sun, sand, food. Ten whole days away from Storybrooke, just to relax. I think it would be good for the both of you.”

 

“But what about you? You’re the one who bought the tickets.”

 

“Your dad and I discussed it, but we don’t want to leave Neal behind for that long.” A tiny part of her, long buried, flares up at that. _Sure, abandon one kid to another realm for 28 years, but ten days would be the end of the world._ Emma firmly ignores it and nods understandingly instead as Snow continues. “We’ve decided not to give the extra tickets to anyone else. You two can use it as a nice getaway time. You’ve both given so much to this town. Let us give something back to you for once.”

 

“Maybe. I’ll have to see what Regina says-”

 

“What I say to what?” Regina asks, appearing beside their booth.

 

“Whaddya say, bestie? Wanna go on a couples’ cruise with me?”

 

And that is how Emma and Regina wind up on a cruise ship two weeks later.

 

##

 

It takes exactly three hours aboard the SS Happy Endings (because _of course_ that’s what it is called, and Emma laughed for two solid minutes when Snow emailed her the pdf of the tickets) for the Just Friends thing to become awkward. Seating at the dinner buffet is all in tables of four, _to encourage mingling between couples_ , according to the brochure. Regina stares down the disgustingly PDA-inclined newlyweds right next to them, pinning the couple with her best “don’t you fucking dare” expression. While Emma hides her amusement at what is clearly going to be a losing battle on the part of the couple, a friendly-looking man and woman suddenly appear on Emma’s right flank, and before she can say anything, they’ve plopped down across the table.

 

“Do you mind?” the woman asks, and Regina’s face morphs smoothly into a welcoming smile. “Of course not. You’re welcome to join us.”

 

The man introduces himself as Terry, the woman as Sherrie, and Emma and Regina return the introductions in kind. They make small talk for a couple minutes, enjoying the food, which is surprisingly good. Emma is totally going to be cool with eating here for a week and a half.

 

“So, how long have you two been together?”

 

The question isn’t unanticipated, but Emma still feels her cheeks burning a little when she answers. “Oh, we’re not together.”

 

Sherrie frowns a little bit. “But you’re on a couples’ cruise.”

 

“Yeah, there was a bit of a mix-up, tickets were non-refundable, and here we are!”

 

“But only as...what, friends?”

 

Emma turns to Regina for back-up, and Regina complies. “Yes. Just two platonic friends on a relaxing vacation.”

 

“Ladies, it’s the twenty-first century,” Terry jumps in encouragingly. “You don’t have to lie to people. Especially us! Our son Evan is bisexual, and we’ve been members of our local PFLAG for three years.”

 

“That’s awesome,” Emma comments, hoping they’ll take the hint and continue talking about themselves, but no such luck.

 

“We won’t pry if you don’t want us to, sweeties, don’t worry. Terry here just gets excited.” She reaches over and lays her hand on top of his, patting a couple times. “He just _loves_ the LGBTQ community.”

 

They spend a while talking about all the things Terry and Sherrie have done with PFLAG, which inevitably turns to talk of their son. Which leads to...

 

“Do either of you have children?” Sherrie asks with a smile.

 

“One son, Henry. He’s fifteen,” Regina answers.

 

“Ahh, the teenage years.” A knowing nod. “I’m not sad to have left those behind. Is he dating yet?”

 

“Yes, much as I’d like to pretend otherwise.”

 

“Isn’t that the strangest thing? They just grow up so quickly.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Emma says. “Like, one second you’re talking to them about fairy tales, and the next you have to make sure they know about condoms even while you’re praying they don’t have to use them.”

 

Terry laughs, nodding understandingly.

 

“So you have kids, too, Emma?” Sherrie asks, and Emma realizes what she just walked into.

 

“Oh. Um. Actually, Henry is my son, too.”

 

The faces across from her are hilariously in sync as the eyes go from Emma to Regina then back to her, confused and curious.

 

“But- How- I mean...” Sherrie trails off, clearly trying not to pry as per her earlier promise, but so curious she’s probably about to fall right out of her chair.

 

Emma takes pity on them and gives them the short and sweet (sans magic, obviously) version of their story. Giving birth to Henry in prison, him finding her later, coming back to Storybrooke only to wind up staying. Eventually becoming friends with Regina and learning to peacefully co-parent. “Things were rough in the beginning. But we stuck it out, and now I have the best family a woman could ask for.”

 

Sherrie has tears in her eyes. “That’s amazing.”

 

“Too bad y’all aren’t together,” Terry comments. “That would be one hell of a love story.”

 

Emma just forces a smile because words are impossible with this lump in her throat, and she is grateful when Regina tactfully turns the conversation onto another subject.

 

##

 

They go to the _Welcome Aboard the SS Happy Endings_ event after dinner, thankfully not trailed by Terry and Sherrie. The two were nice enough, but Emma has just about reached her limit with small talk for the day.

 

She takes a seat alongside Regina, and together, they endure an hour of mediocre public speaking and terrible puns by a middle-aged white dude in a captain’s hat.

 

“How many newlyweds do we have on the trip today?” he asks.

 

Emma watches as about a third of the crowd stands up.

 

“And y’all thought that the boat was rocking a lot already. Just wait until lights out! This ship isn’t called the _Happy Endings_ for nothing!”

 

Emma grimaces, and she hears Regina huff an impatient sigh.

 

The event doesn’t improve, although it does get...interesting.

 

“I need everyone to stand up! Everyone, up, up, up!” Everyone complies, and the host continues. “Per tradition with all _Happy Endings_ journeys, we always award a prize to the couple aboard who has been together the longest. We’ll start with a short period of time being together, and once we pass you, please sit down. The only couple left standing will be the winner!”

 

She senses Regina glancing at her, so Emma leans over quickly and murmurs “Two years,” into her ear.

 

“-interpretation is up to you. You can count from your wedding anniversary, your first date, the day you met, or...other firsts you could think of,” the guy says with a playful eye waggle, and Emma rolls her eyes. “We’re playing on the honor system here, folks, just for fun. Now, let’s get the fun started!”

 

Emma and Regina sit with quite a few others when he says “two years,” and they sit for a while and watch until the crowd is narrowed down couple by couple, and they eventually left with one couple celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary.

 

Everyone applauds, the couple collects their prize, and the event is finally over, the crowd left to disperse and do what they will for the next week and a half.

 

“Why two years?” Regina asks on the way back to their adjoining rooms.

 

“What?”

 

“Why did you decide on two years for the amount of time we’ve been together?”

 

“Oh.” Emma shrugs. “I dunno.”

 

“I thought you might’ve had some specific time in your head. Just so we can get our story straight. Two years ago...that would have been...oh.”

 

“Yeah. Smack dab in the middle of being The Dark One. Not the best time to start a relationship.”

 

“Not exactly,” Regina smiles, half amused, half lost in musings.

 

“I mean, if I’d have thought about it, we could’ve said longer. Or shorter. There’s all kinds of times it could’ve happened.”

 

“What?” Regina’s brow wrinkles.

 

Emma flushes. “You know, to make a good story. Like, if we’d...I don’t know. Declared our love right before being separated by New York. Or after Neverland. Or-”

 

“Or that time you fell off a bridge and scared me to death. That would have certainly been a nice cinematic moment.”

 

“Or before you tried to poison me.”

 

“Or right before you left Hook at the altar.”

 

“Man, if we’d only known,” Emma says, jokingly, and Regina hums in agreement. Neither of them say anything further, but thankfully they reach the doors just as the silence could have turned awkward.

 

“See you in the morning?” Regina queries.

 

“Yep. ‘Night,” Emma returns.

 

“Good night.” And they enter their separate rooms and don’t see each other until the next morning.

 

##

 

Regina comes up with a plan that includes nothing but relaxing, avoiding any and all ship-hosted events other than meal times, and Emma heartily agrees. The plan goes splendidly for a while. They read poolside, check out the sauna, play Battleship in the game room (which Emma totally dominates, for the record). They follow Regina’s plan to the letter, doing nothing but relaxing for the first few days. It does splendidly until Day Four, which has Emma bent over a toilet puking her guts out.

 

And not even for a _good_ reason. It hadn’t involved an ounce of alcohol. No, instead it was that damned-

 

“I told you not to eat the lobster,” Regina says from over her shoulder, and Emma would make a sharp comeback, but the thought a of leaning her forehead against the cool porcelain seems like a much better idea. Besides, despite the words, Regina’s voice is incredibly gentle, with barely a hint of admonishment.

 

Emma’s stomach spasms again, but nothing comes up.

 

She groans and gives into temptation, leaning her head against the side of the toilet.

 

“Emma, _no_.” She sounds revolted, which strikes Emma as kind of funny, as she didn’t seemed to be moved at all by the vomit. No, it’s the potential toilet germs that get her. “Here.”

 

She hears the sound of Regina maneuvering around the tiny bathroom - there’s barely enough room for Emma in here, sprawled on the floor, much less anyone else - and then somehow she has folded herself down beside Emma.

 

“Here,” she says again, and she pulls Emma’s head into her lap and places a damp, cool washcloth on Emma’s forehead.

 

She spends the entire afternoon on the floor by Emma’s side, gently stroking her back and plaiting her long hair into a braid so she can easily pull it off her neck.

 

Emma still feels like there are a dozen big rigs driving through her internal organs, but she eventually stops the pitiful retching and can just rest her head against Regina’s thigh. The other woman seems to have an endless supply of cool washcloths, pressing against her forehead or her cheeks or her neck. It feels amazing, and she feels herself start to drift off.

 

“Come on, Miss Swan,” Regina says, which strikes Emma as an oddly formal way to address someone who’s head has been on your lap for the past several hours. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 

Emma is too tired to waste energy by talking, so she just mumbles and starts to get up. Her legs feel a little shaky, and she’s grateful for Regina’s support as she walks the few feet to the bed.

 

Regina gets her to swallow a couple small sips of water, and then she’s face down in the pillow and doesn’t move again until after sunrise.

 

##

 

The next day is their one and only day ashore, the halfway point in the cruise.

 

Regina breaks out this amazing pale tangerine sundress that Emma could never pull off in a thousand years, but works perfectly with Regina’s darker, golden complexion. It’s halter style, which leaves Emma having a hard time breathing and trying desperately not to wonder whether or not she is wearing a bra underneath.

 

Turns out she’s wearing a bikini, which becomes clear later when they’re sprawled out on the white sand beach, listening to the sounds of the ocean.

 

Well, the ocean and the four or five dozen other people in their immediate vicinity. Unsurprisingly, Oahu isn’t exactly a well-kept secret.

 

Emma’s mildly annoyed at the touristy location. She’d been looking forward to taking a nice, challenging hike deep into the trees, discovering hidden waterfalls. Maybe visiting someplace off the beaten path, talking to the locals and eating good food.

 

Now just the thought of it makes her stomach turn.

 

She’s feeling fine for the most part, but she has no desire to have a repeat of yesterday, so she’s decided to take it easy.

 

Regina, on the other hand...

 

“Aren’t you going?” Emma says after they’ve been relaxing in silence for a while.

 

“Hmm?”

 

She doesn’t even think Regina opens her eyes, but it’s hard to tell with the sunglasses in the way.

 

“On the hike. It’s almost noon.”

 

“Oh. No, I decided not to go,” she says lazily.

 

Emma frowns. “Why? You were looking forward to it.”

 

“No, _you_ were looking forward to it.”

 

“Not alone. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fanny pack in your suitcase. I was just waiting for you to put it on to mock you mercilessly.”

 

“I don’t see why you hate that thing so much. It’s a practical invention.”

 

“For middle-aged mothers in the nineties.”

 

“I _am_ a middle-aged mother,” she says drily, still not even turning her head in Emma’s direction.

 

“But it’s not the nineties anymore.”

 

“It was when I bought it. And it’s served me well.”

 

Emma has a sudden visual of Regina wearing an impeccably tailored black pantsuit with a bright blue fanny pack fastened around her waist, and she smirks at the absurd mental image.

 

“Whatever. The point is that you brought it, and I know you wanted to go on this hike as much as I did. So go. I’m not an invalid. I can hang out on the beach by myself for a few hours.”

 

“Nope. I don’t want to.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“Try living in a place with no running water for a couple decades. It will sufficiently kill any desire to get back to nature.”

 

“Still don’t believe you.”

 

Regina casually shrugs one shoulder. “But you can’t really do anything about it, so you should take some advice from your BFF and just let it go.”

 

Emma just rolls her eyes the way she always does when Regina randomly gets catty over Elsa - whom Emma hasn’t even _seen_ since she disappeared years ago.

 

Emma sits in silence for another minute and then stands. “Come on. Let’s go.”

 

“What?” Regina actually sounds concerned for the first time in the whole conversation. “Emma, we’re not-”

 

“Not on the hike. Let’s just...stroll for a while. Shop the kiosks. See what we find along the shoreline.”

 

“Sure you’re up for it?”

 

“God, Regina, I didn’t know I’d brought my mom on this trip.”

 

Regina scowls at her as she stands. “That was uncalled for.”

 

“Then don’t be annoying.”

 

“ _Excuse me_ for caring about your wellbeing.”

 

Regina lifts her arms to slide the sundress coverup back in on, and Emma purposefully looks out at the sea, pretending to be fascinated by the wind and the waves. She feels a smile growing on her face, leaning her head back and letting her eyes drift shut and the breeze tangle her hair.

 

She takes a deep breath and then another, and when she turns back, Regina is staring at her, her expression a complete mystery behind those damned oversized sunglasses, but Emma is suddenly aware of every inch of her body. She can feel warmth blooming in her cheeks even as she tries to act completely casual, starting off in a random direction.

 

Regina follows, and they just stroll for a while. They pick up some souvenirs for Henry and others back in Storybrooke. Emma finds a shirt that says _My moms went to Hawaii and all they brought me back was this lousy t-shirt_ , and she loves that it specifies beyond “parents,” which is what all the ones in the other gift shops had said. It’s still cheesy and ridiculous, but Emma knows Henry will love it.

 

Around lunch time, the stop for some food. Emma’s stomach is still feeling a little tender, so she just has soup.

 

Once they finish eating, she and Regina meander back to the boat to put away their purchases and then agree to spend the rest of their time at the beach.

 

The only flaw in their plan comes a couple hours later, when Regina is combing the beach for the perfect shell to take home. She’s found a beautiful one, thin and delicate, so shimmery you can almost imagine it’s translucent.

 

She’s holding it out for Emma’s inspection when two small kids, clearly twins, come running pell-mell around the corner, screaming and giggling, and when the sister turns back to see how close the brother has gotten, she accidentally collides with Regina. Regina yelps and pitches forward, clearly trying to simultaneously maintain her balance and keep the girl from falling.

 

It doesn’t work, but the girl lands like a pro, rolling in the sand, still giggling. She doesn’t even apologize, oblivious in that way kids sometimes are, pops back up immediately, and the two continue to weave in and out of the crowded beach.

 

Emma hears Regina hiss, and when she looks back at her, the other woman is clasping three broken pieces of shell, one of which has sliced her palm open.

 

“Shit, are you okay?” Emma asks, stepping forward in concern. She grasps Regina’s hand gently and looks more closely at the wound.

 

Regina barely even seems to notice. “I really liked that shell,” is all she says, and she looks utterly crestfallen.

 

Emma grabs a few tissues from their beach bag and holds her hand out.

 

“Here,” she says, and Regina drops the shell fragments into the waiting tissues. Emma wraps them up and tucks them away distractedly, blowing gently on the cut.

 

“What are you doing?” Regina asks.

 

“Hey. You took care of me. Let me take care of you.”

 

Regina raises an eyebrow, amused. “Emma, it’s just a little blood. I’ve had much worse.”

 

“Still, we should get you some peroxide. Get it cleaned up. You don’t want to get infected.” Emma is all business, thinking back to their shopping expedition earlier.

 

“Come on,” she says. There’s a drug store a couple blocks away from the beach, which is closer to their current location than the ship is.

 

Regina concedes, following alongside her. When they stop at the store, the price of a gallon of milk nearly makes her fall over, but thankfully the peroxide and bandages are fairly normally priced.

 

An hour later, they’re back at the beach. Regina is relaxing under the setting sun when Emma is suddenly hit by a brilliant idea.

 

“I’ll be back in a sec,” is all she says, standing quickly to her feet.

 

“Mmkay,” Regina answers, not even opening her eyes, and Emma casually grabs a couple of things from their beach bag and goes off to complete her mission.

 

##

 

She returns a while later to find Regina wide awake.

 

“There you are. What the hell, Emma?”

 

“What? I said I’d be back.

 

“An hour ago! I was getting worried.”

 

“Sorry,” Emma says, shrugging.

 

Regina looks at Emma’s empty hands, clearly looking for some sign as to what she’d been doing.

 

“I had an idea,” Emma says, answering the unasked question. “Didn’t pan out.”

 

“What about now? What do you think of food?” Regina asks.

 

“I think I’m hungry for the first time in twenty-four hours. Kind of famished, actually.”

 

“Good. Let’s go find something to eat.”

 

So they do. It’s delicious, and by the time they’re finished, they only have an hour before they have to be back on the boat.

 

The last rays of sun are streaking over the sea, vivid against a vast sky of fuchsia and indigo.

 

“Holy crap,” Emma says, and Regina lets out a contented hum of agreement.

 

They’re almost to the boat when a line catches Emma’s attention near the cluster of tourist traps and kiosks by the docks.

 

“We should do that,” Emma says, nodding over at the line.

 

Regina follows her gaze and immediately rolls her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

 

“Come on! If it’s one of the ones that prints postcards, we can send one to my mom! It’ll be perfect.”

 

Regina relents, and they go to join the line for the photo booth.

 

When it’s finally their turn, they scoot into the tiny box, and the black velvet curtains slip shut, suddenly obscuring a lot of the noise from the crowd.

 

Of course, the moment she slips her debit card into the slot, the lights flash and loud music starts, and they can see the chest of ridiculous props

 

“If we’re gonna do this-” Emma starts, holding out a pair of oversized sunglasses, and Regina grasps them, lifting them to her face.

 

“Then we’ll do it right,” Regina concludes, and the mock seriousness of her tone and expression contradicts the giant glasses so much Emma can’t help but laugh.

 

“Exactly!”

 

She meets Emma’s gaze and grins widely, and Emma feels like she’s floating.

 

They dig through the props, rummaging quickly around for the best picks. There are about two dozen leis in all sizes and colors, more giant sunglasses, ridiculous moustaches. Emma spots a gaudy golden plastic crown and sticks it on Regina’s head while Regina hands her a monocle and bright green hair ribbon.

 

It is positively ridiculous, and they’re giggling like children. Emma’s drunk on the atmosphere and the lights and just...maybe five consecutive days without the pressure to be the savior and the sheriff is finally getting to her, because she feels positively _giddy_.

 

It shows in the pictures when they print out. The poses are ridiculous and dramatic, but they’re clearly both having a blast, and Emma gets this warmth in her stomach when she looks at the two of them side-by-side, so clearly happy and carefree.

 

Before she can second-guess herself, she turns to Regina.

 

“Go again? I kind of want some for myself now.”

 

Regina glances back at the curtain, probably considering the line of people waiting, but she only waits a split second before she shifts back to Emma and raises both eyebrows mischievously, grinning with her teeth biting her bottom lip. “Let’s do it.”

 

Emma slides her card in again, and again, the lights and music start back up.

 

The slaphappy atmosphere has faded, leaving a sort of giddy contentment. Emma can’t physically make herself stop smiling.

 

She slips her hand covertly to her pocket to feel for the small lump, and, satisfied it’s still there, turns the camera.

 

They use the props for the first couple photos, then Emma pulls off the giant tie and holds up a lei of beautiful purple flowers. But instead of handing it over, she reaches up and slips it over Regina’s head instead. Regina ducks to accept it, and when she lifts her head and meets Emma’s eyes, Emma’s hands suddenly falter, resting briefly against the other woman’s shoulders.

 

They’ve been close the entire time, thighs pressed together, as the tiny booth doesn’t really allow for any other situation. But for the first time in the past five minutes, Emma suddenly feels aware of the closeness. She lets her hands drop, her stomach buzzing.

 

Regina leans down and grabs a lei with vibrant yellow flowers for her, and she slips it over Emma’s head just like Emma had done to her.

 

She’s still smiling, but something about the expression has shifted and Emma can’t breathe.

 

Then Regina sticks out her tongue and the moment is gone. They do two more poses, and suddenly, Emma gets a flash of bravery - or possibly stupidity - and leans over to kiss Regina’s cheek. It’s only a pose, a perfectly normal one, portrayed at least twice on all the sample poses on the front of the booth. Her lips are puckered dramatically, and she intends to just do it and then pull back.

 

But fuck, it’s the closest she’s ever been to Regina, and she meant to keep some space there, but her lips are touching skin - _Regina’s_ skin - and she doesn’t know how to move.

 

But that’s okay because Regina’s moving for her, head turning and pulling back and still smiling, but a question in her eyes Emma isn’t sure how to answer.

 

Should she lean forward or back? She can’t tell.

 

The moment stretches, the camera flashes for a final time, and an automated voice tells them to collect their photos, and still, they don’t move. The lights shut off, and they’re left in darkness. It suddenly occurs to Emma that the leis are still around their necks. Then Regina shifts-

 

and the black curtain is whipped open, and Emma jerks back so quickly she bangs her head against the wall.

 

“There’s a line out here, you know,” some middle-aged woman with an orange spray tan whines, and Emma doesn’t apologize as they climb out, but she doesn’t punch the woman either, which she honestly considers a fair compromise.

 

##

 

The next morning, they’re at breakfast when Regina suggests that they might actually try one of the events that day.

 

“Really? What happened to, ‘We can make our own fun, Emma.’” She does a terrible impression of Regina’s voice. “‘These imbeciles-’”

 

“I did _not_ say ‘imbeciles.’ I don’t talk like that.”

 

“Shh, you’re ruining my impression.”

 

“Of me talking like some diamond-dripping snob?”

 

“It’s a fancy word. You’re fancy.”

 

“Fancy enough to accompany me to one of the events tonight?”

 

Emma narrows her eyes. “Why do I feel like this is some kind of trick? What are you wanting to do?”

 

Regina purses her lips. “Okay, I know it sounds boring, but there’s one about ships in a bottle, and I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that.”

 

“What, making those tiny ships?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Emma shrugs. “Sure.”

 

“Really? That simple?”

 

“Dork.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes. “There it is.”

 

##

 

Unfortunately, it turns out not to be about building ships in a bottle at all. It’s just another of those Minute to Win It kind of games. Emma had tried to get Regina to participate in one the other night where they’d have to pass apples to each other without using any hands (“Come on, it’s apples! It’s your thing!”) but had been shot down quite thoroughly.

 

Emma kind of wants to bug Regina about that, but Regina is already annoyed that the event started before she realized it wasn’t what she had wanted, so she refrains.

 

Each couple has supplies in front of them, and they have to race to see who can put it together the fastest.

 

Emma can see when Regina’s annoyance shifts into determination, and she locks eyes with Emma to see if Emma is in. Emma nods, already with her. They’ve got this.

 

The host explains the rules in excruciating detail, as if they’re not already obvious, but finally, it’s time to start.

 

They work like they’ve never worked before, and Emma is suddenly glad for all that time she spent in Regina’s vault working on magic together. They’re used to working together, shifting to accommodate for the other’s strengths and weaknesses. Regina does grumble once about the lack of magic, and Emma stifles a laugh, though she privately agrees.

 

It’s close, but they still wind up finishing about six seconds in front of the second place couple.

 

They have to wait for everyone else to finish before they can collect their prize. Just as they think the event is coming to a close, the host starts talking again.

 

“Okay, now we all know, a ship isn’t a real ship without a name. So now we’re going to come up with names for your ships. And this is the fun part! See, you younger folks out there might already know about this thing called the internet,” the host says, pausing for laughter. There are a few weak laughs, clearly made out of pity, and he continues. “Now, when two people - real people or fictional people - get together, they are in a relationship. And these internet people like to shorten this word...to ship! Now, y’all seem like some really fine couples, so our final challenge today: take this boat that the two of you have created together, out of your love and partnership, and give it a name that comes from both of you. If you need some tips, just think Brangelina!”

 

He gestures to them to get onto their naming, and Regina turns to her with a preemptive glare.

 

“If you suggest Remma, I swear-”

 

Emma holds up her hands, laughing. Regina probably dreams of skewering portmanteaux with a sword “Wasn’t going to! There are other ways to name a ship. It doesn’t have to be your names combined. It could be like...different characteristics or a nickname or-”

 

“I’m not going to ask how you know so much about this.”

 

“I appreciate that.”

 

Twenty minutes later, they finally leave the event, the first place prize - a gift card to a store they’ll probably never visit - in Regina’s hand, and _The Swan Queen_ in Emma’s.

 

##

 

The next day passes uneventfully - they’re back to the reading and relaxing, avoiding all events routine - and Emma enjoys every minute of it. But when she tries to go to bed, she’s too restless to sleep. She tosses and turns for what seems like an eternity before the perfect thought finally occurs to her. She jumps up and throws on her bikini, grabs a towel from the cabinet, and taps three times on the door that separates her bunk from Regina’s.

 

“Regina?” She knocks again. “Regina, wake up.”

 

She tests the handle to find it unlocked, pushes it open, and pulls the matching door on her side closed behind her.

 

Regina doesn’t appear to have heard her at all.

 

“C’mon, wake up!”

 

“Wha?” Regina mumbles, shifting and opening her eyes to peer at Emma through the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. We should go swimming!”

 

Regina frowns at the bright green display next to her.

 

“It’s 3 AM.”

 

“Yeah, but the pool is open 24 hours. We’re allowed up there, the brochure says so.”

 

“So go. ‘Night.”

 

She flops back down on the pillow

 

“Reginaaa. They only staff a lifeguard until midnight. After that, it’s unmanned. I can’t swim alone! You don’t want me to drown, do you?”

 

“At this moment? I wouldn’t be opposed.” The harsh words don’t sound nearly as intimidating while half-muffled by the plush pillow.

 

“Please?”

 

Regina flops back over to glare at her.

 

“You’re lucky we aren’t in Storybrooke, or I’d fireball you.”

 

“I took that into account.”

 

Regina pauses, calculating. “You’ll owe me.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

So Regina sighs and throws off the sheet, gathering her things and going to get ready for a midnight swimming expedition.

 

##

 

Emma finds herself tiptoeing even though she doesn’t need to. They’re fully allowed to be up and about on the deck at this point, and if she were on the bar level, there would probably still be music and a few people milling about.

 

But apparently it’s a little too cool for most people to think a night swim sounds appealing, so they’re alone at the pool.

 

“Alone, at last.”

 

“I was alone in my room,” Regina grumbles, but she has the faintest hint of a smile around her mouth as she says it, so Emma isn’t too worried about incoming damage.

 

“What do you think? Pool first, or hot tub?”

 

“I read a study recently that said the average concentration of urine in public hot tubs is three to five times higher than it is in public pools.”

 

Emma grimaces. “Aaaand pool it is.”

 

She strips off her wraparound and drops it onto a poolside lounge chair, and she specifically doesn’t watch as Regina does the same.

 

She’s been having more trouble with the Feelings thing since the start of this cruise - spending hours upon end with each other probably isn’t helping. But it’s definitely enough to know that this isn’t just some loneliness-induced phase. She has legimitate feelings for Regina, and they aren’t going away.

 

The only thing she can hope for is that she will get better at burying them back in their box once they return to Storybrooke and things get back to normal.

 

 

Emma gathers her hair into the elastic on her wrist and meanders a few feet over until she reaches the deep end. She dives in smoothly and swims a quick half-length until she can stand up comfortably. She surfaces for air and turns just as Regina is following her lead, jumping in. Except she just does a jump instead of a dive, and she plugs her nose before she jumps in, and hell if Emma doesn’t find that the most adorable thing she has ever seen.

 

Emma ducks under the water and facepalms. _Get it together_.

 

They splash around in silence for a couple minutes, and Emma floats on her back and looks up at the stars. She can’t see them perfectly because of the lights around the top of the boat, but she still has a pretty good view.  


She suddenly wonders if she can still do an underwater handstand. She used to love doing those when she was a kid.

 

Emma kicks over to where the water is to her belly button, waits until she sees Regina swimming toward the deep end, then dives down and tries to kick her legs up in the air and keep them there. She has a vision in her head of executing it perfectly, despite that fact that it has been well over a decade since she last attempted this.

 

Instead, she wobbles for a minute and her legs keep their momentum, and she falls into a clumsy flip of sorts that sends a rush of chlorinated water up her nose, and she surfaces, sputtering and eyes watering from the burn of the chlorine in her nostrils.

 

Regina is watching, looking entirely too amused. “Graceful,” she says intones, and Emma shoots her a look.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Regina holds up her hands but doesn’t hold back a grin as she pivots quickly and heads off in a backstroke in the opposite direction.

 

They swim in companionable silence for a while, and they’re floating side-by-side when Emma says, “Too bad we’re alone. We could’ve played Chicken.”

 

“And what on earth makes you think I’d agree to that?”

 

“Because I’d dare you, obviously.”

 

“Ah. And I would _never_ turn down something as important as a dare.”

 

“Nope. Not one from me.”

 

Emma can practically hear the eye-rolling from here.

 

“So, do you not know how to dive?”

 

“What?”

 

“You jumped into the deep end, instead of diving. I just wondered.”

 

“Ah. No, I never learned to dive. When I was growing up, there was a creek on our property, and my father taught me how to swim. But with those kind of creeks, you could never tell if there were rocks, or certain parts that were more shallow than others. So diving wasn’t a thing we did.”

 

Regina’s voice is soft like it does when she talks about cherished memories with her father. It doesn’t happen very often; Emma can count the number of times on one hand.

 

“I’m glad that you adopted Henry,” she says.

 

Regina turns toward her, confused at the sudden topic shift. “What?”

 

“I know you don’t talk a lot about it, and that’s fine. I know your childhood wasn’t the best. But I’m really glad that you had your dad, and that he was there to give you some good memories. Henry could have wound up with anyone. But he wound up with you. And you...you did so amazing with him. You raised him when I couldn’t and you gave him so much.” There are tears clogging her throat, and she clears them away, blinking hard. “And you named him after a pretty neat guy, from what you’ve told me. So I just...wanted to thank you. For all that.”

 

“God, Emma-” she stops, seemingly searching for words.

 

“You don’t need to thank me. You gave me the best gift anyone could have given. I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without Henry. I was lost before him. Even if I’d adopted a different child...it just wouldn’t have been the same. And as for raising him, I may have started it, but we finished it together.”

 

Emma nods, her ponytail swishing in the water.

 

“So I guess I’m grateful for you, too,” Regina says, splashing her gently. “Even if you make my life more difficult sometimes.”

 

“I do my best,” Emma says, splashing a few droplets back at her. “But only because I care.”

 

Suddenly Regina turns toward her and just fucking beams, and Emma wants to kiss her but she also kind of wants to cry. Either way, her heart is off orbiting Jupiter and unlikely to return any time soon.

 

“I care about you, too, Emma. More than you know. You and Henry are the best family I could have asked for.”

 

The tears win, filling her eyes even as she feels a smile pull across her face to match Regina’s.

 

“And you’re my best family, too.”

 

##

 

By the time they eventually climb out of the pool and towel off, Emma is exhausted in that bone deep way that always happens after swimming for some reason.

 

She yawns three times on the way back to their rooms, and Regina glares at her each time, because it makes her yawn, too.

 

“Thanks for ruining hot tubs for me forever, by the way. Really appreciate that.” Emma says as they near the rooms.

 

They stop, and Emma rummages through her bag for her key. Then she rummages some more.

 

“Fuck.”

 

Regina’s still standing in her open doorway.

 

“Key?”

 

Emma nods.

 

“Just use the connecting door.”

 

“Oh, duh.”

 

Emma thwacks herself on the forehead and wonders past Regina and into the room, a vision of a nice, fluffy bed just waiting for her to flop down in it...the vision goes away when she turns the handle to no avail. She tries pushing on the door, then twisting the knob back and forth. Suddenly she can see the keys clear as crystal in her mind, sitting on the dresser right on the other side of the door, where she’d set them down to knock.

 

Emma rests her head against the closed door, feeling the cool dribble of pool water down her back from her ponytail.

 

Regina emerges from the bathroom, where she’d changed into silk pajamas, and she sees Emma’s defeated posture where she hasn’t moved away from the door.

 

“Fuck,” Emma sighs, and this time, Regina nods.

 

“Fuck,” she agrees.

 

She waits a few moments, then continues. “Well, customer service is only three decks up; I’m sure they can-”

 

Emma cuts her off with a groan. “No more walking.”

 

“Emma-”

 

“Can’t we just share? It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

 

“I’m sorry? Have you been crawling into my bed while I sleep? I”ll have to report you to the local authorities.”

 

“I meant camping last year. The canoe trip. The tent” Emma mumbles, dropping onto the bed.

 

“Fine,” Regina says, somewhat belatedly, as Emma snuggles into a pillow. “But you’re going to the desk and getting yourself a replacement key tomorrow...” she continues, but Emma has already drifted off.

 

##

 

They wake up pressed together because of course they do. Because there isn’t a single bit of Emma’s subconscious that wouldn’t scoot closer to Regina until every single millimeter between them was erased.

 

And now she is wrapped around Regina’s back, her arms are circling Regina’s, their hips tucked together, and Regina’s hair is tickling her lip a little bit, but in no universe does she want to move.

 

She doesn’t even want to breathe.

 

Emma hasn’t felt this content in....she doesn’t even remember the last time. Maybe when they had all gone camping last year. The whole Swan-Mills-Charming clan, as Henry had dubbed them. They had all gathered around the campfire, making s’mores, and Regina had been sharing a log with Emma.

 

And something about that had felt so right, she had breathed more deeply than she had in a long time. Family, food, and fresh air.

 

And Regina.

 

Always Regina.

 

##

 

When Regina finally wakes up, Emma pretends she’s just awakened, too, joking about their position and rolling away before she can let the disappointment settle in.

 

They don’t spend much time together, just sitting together for meals, then going back to their respective rooms. Emma watches old reruns on the tiny television - or, she pretends to, while she really stares at that photostrip from the photobooth. The last photo in particular, where there is still a vestige of a smile on both of their faces, but they are staring at each other instead of the camera.

 

And she thinks…

 

Though she might just be projecting, she thinks Regina’s expression might actually match hers.

 

##

 

That evening, Emma is enjoying a quiet game of Words with Friends on her phone when a knock comes at the connecting door.

 

“Come in!”

 

Regina appears, and Emma barely looks up from her phone.

 

“Did you rig Words with Friends? This is ridiculous! It’s no wonder I’m behind, I never get any stupid vowels! Unless the vocabulary gods are going to accept CWTFJL” she spits out the random combination of sounds. “I’m screwed.”

 

She’s met with nothing but silence, and Emma looks up questioningly.

 

“Sorry. You probably wanted something. What’s up?”

 

“Can I ask you a candid question?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Why aren’t we dating?”

 

Emma drops her phone.

 

“Um.” She fumbles down to get it, then decides to leave it on the floor, because that is _so_ not priority number one at this very moment.

 

“You should really get an Otterbox for that thing,” Regina says, her mouth quirked up in amusement.

 

“Dating...each other?” she clarifies.

 

“Yes.”

 

Emma’s mouth is suddenly as dry as the Agrabahn desert, and the question repeats on echo in her head until the finally answers.

 

“I don’t know. You don’t...want to? I guess?” Emma says, hesitantly.

 

“Are you telling me what I want? Because if we are potentially doing this, I should warn you that I dislike that.”

 

“Yeah, I _know_ you hate that, Regina, I didn’t just meet you. And do what, exactly?”

 

Emma just...needs to be very clear. That she is awake and that this is actually happening.

 

“Date.” Regina hesitates, showing nerves for the first time since entering the room. “That is, if you want to. I just thought you might, given...well, some things. But I may have misinterpreted the situation. And if so, I apologize.”

 

She’s slipping into formal speech the way she does sometimes.When she feels like she needs to get the upper hand, or at least level the playing field.

 

Emma laughs, except it’s the kind of laugh that winds up sounding like something akin a seagull with a hernia, and honestly she wouldn’t blame Regina for turning right back around, closing the door behind her, and pretending this conversation never happened.

 

But she doesn’t. She looks momentarily confused, maybe a little taken aback, but she stands her ground.

 

And that, if nothing else, convinces Emma that the conversation is serious.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” she stops, then restarts. “I wasn’t laughing because it was _funny_. I was laughing because the idea of it _not_ being true is...incomprehensible. I just never knew what you wanted.”

 

“I want this,” Regina says, simply, and this rush of air leaves Emma’s lungs, suddenly hitting her that Regina means it. That this is happening. “What do you want?”

 

Emma shrugs one shoulder and simply tells the truth. “The same thing I’ve always wanted.” She inches forward and lightly takes Regina’s hand, pulling her toward herself.

 

“You. This. Us.” Her voice is rusty, and Regina’s eyes are so large in her vision that she can’t keep her eyes open anymore.

 

She she closes them, beginning to tilt her head and lean in, and suddenly there is _contact_. Her lips against Regina’s. Every muscle in her body tenses all at once, and then relaxes. She shifts just a bit, allowing their mouths to lock perfectly, and it’s everything she ever imagined.

 

Regina tastes like heaven, like everything golden and light and smoky and dark. And it makes no sense, but she tastes just like her magic feels when it’s swimming through Emma’s veins while they’re working their magic together, and Emma wonders idly if she tastes like that for Regina.

 

Then Regina’s tongue flicks at hers, and Emma can’t feel the backs of her knees. She sort of stumbles to the bed, not out of any conscious plan, but because standing no longer seems like a reasonable use of energy when she could use every bit of her focus on the woman in her arms. The kiss stays languid, almost lazy, but every movement is filled to the brim with sensation. Emma feels like every hair on her body is standing on end, but in the best possible way, her nerve endings alight with pleasure. They feel each other out, tongues flicking gently, hesitantly in and out, determining what they prefer, and Emma drops her hands to Regina’s ass, and Regina moans against her tongue.

 

God, she could get used to this. She might never stop.

 

Regina gently palms one of her breasts, and Emma inhales roughly, leaning her head back, and breaking the kiss so she can breathe for a minute. She presses her cheek against Regina’s.

 

“So, to answer your question. I have no fucking idea.”

 

“Mmm?” Regina intones, pressing back against her.

 

“Your question. My answer. Why aren’t we dating?”

 

“Oh,” Regina rasps, and Emma clenches her legs together at the sensation the sound induces. “Well. I’d say we should remedy that. What do you think?”

 

“I think that I’m in love with you. And that if I don’t taste you soon, I might _actually_ die.”

 

Regina bursts out a startled bark of laughter, then gestures lower. “Then by all means.”

 

Emma goes to oblige but stops when Regina gently grasps her shoulders, pulling her back up, pressing a gentle kiss against her eyebrow, her cheek, then her lips.

 

“And I love you, too.”

 

Emma feels tears prick the back of her eyelids, and she presses her mouth to Regina’s once more. Regina’s hands comb through her hair, and Emma lets her fingertips slide against the other woman’s ribcage. They strain together, and Emma begins to work her way down Regina’s body once more, and they revel in each other long into the night.

 

##

 

The next morning, Emma wakes up pressed against Regina again.

 

This time, without any clothes.

 

She totally prefers the clothesless way.

 

“Hey,” Emma greets, pressing a quick kiss against the other woman’s lips, doing her best not to exhale, as she wants to save Regina from the death that is her morning breath for as long as humanly possible. Preferably forever.

 

“Hey.”

 

“So. As you’ve probably surmised by now, I’m not straight.”

 

Regina lets out a soft laugh.

 

“What?” Emma asks.

 

“Well, one, I could definitely tell last night wasn’t your first experience with a woman.”

 

“Not my first Sapphic rodeo, no.” Emma winks, and Regina rolls her eyes.

 

“Two, I hate to break it to you, darling, but I never thought you were.”

 

“Really? Like, I never really hid it, but it’s not like I go around decked out in rainbow pins.”

 

“No,” Regina’s voice is teasing. “But you stared at my ass so much when you first came to town that I contemplated embroidering ‘Hi, Emma’ on every pair of pants I owned.”

 

“That probably wouldn’t have helped. Just saying.”

 

“I didn’t say I disliked it,” Regina smirks, and morning breath be damned, because she has to kiss her again.

 

They kiss lazily for a while, hands roaming, and eventually, Emma pulls back to breathe. They watch each other quietly, and Regina in the morning with tousled hair and puffy lips is the most beautiful thing Emma’s ever seen.

 

“So, wait, why did you never say anything?”

 

“Why didn’t you?” Regina shrugs. “Timing. Circumstances. And just because you were attracted to me once didn’t necessarily mean you still were, or that you wanted to do anything about it. I did try to tell you at the pool, though.”

 

“What? No, you didn’t.”

 

“Yes, I did.”

 

“Trust me, I may have been sleep deprived, but I would have remembered that.”

 

“I most definitely did! _I care about you_? _You’re the best family_?”

 

“What? You were trying to tell me then?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“You called me family! I don’t know about the Enchanted Forest, but here, we don’t really think of incest as sexy.”

 

Regina growls, and they wind up kissing again.

 

It seems like they’re probably going to be doing a lot of that now.

 

Emma breaks away suddenly, an idea forming in her head.

 

Regina frowns, making a protesting noise in the back of her throat.

 

“Hold on.”

 

“What’s up?” Regina questions.

 

“I have something for you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. I was going to wait until we got back home, but- now feels better.”

 

Emma rolls over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and fishing out the small object.

 

She sits up, keeping it concealed in one closed palm, as she runs her fingers around Regina’s knee with the other. It’s hard to meet Regina’s eyes as she says this, and she looks down at first, but then she makes herself meet the brunette’s gaze.

 

“I know I told you I’d do my best to give you a happy ending. And that still stands. But I’m starting to think...I mean, not to sound like some terrible Hallmark card or anything. But I think life is more about the time we spend together living it, not like...one big goal to work toward. And you’re the thing that makes me happiest on my journey. And I want to try to do the same for you.”

 

Regina’s openly crying now, and Emma’s eyes are blurry, too, as she hands over the necklace.

 

“Is that my shell?” Regina asks, wiping her eyes with one hand and grasping the necklace with another.

 

“You blood bonded with it. It’s yours now.”

 

“How did you-?”

 

“That guy with the jewelry kiosk right by the dock. I washed it all off and disinfected it, and I had him turn it into a necklace.”

 

“You just...had him make it from you. You were gone what, an hour? How did you convince him to do that?”

 

“I was very determined,” Emma shrugs, and Regina lifts up to brush her mouth against Emma’s again.

 

Emma lets the moment sink in. She’s never going to be used to this.

 

Regina is the one to break away this time, pulling back to look at the smooth, pale shell.

 

“Plus if you tilt your head this way and squint a little, it looks kind of like a heart.”

 

Regina follows her lead. “I don’t see it.”

 

“Well, fine, you have to use a _little_ imagination.”

 

Regina looks at her and smiles. “You’re right. It’s a heart.”

 

##

 

When they finally arrive back in Storybrooke, Emma is a little disappointed, a little relieved, and a little nervous, but overwhelmingly excited.

 

Their homecoming welcome varies widely from person to person.

 

Henry hugs them both for a long time and then asks if Regina will make him lasagna.

 

Granny gives them both a bearclaw and small coffee on the house. She’s learned that Emma is a lot less grumpy when Regina gets her own bearclaw, instead of stealing half of hers.

 

Mulan is happy but reserved when they swing by the station to say hi.

 

Zelena, who also happens to be at the station for mysterious reasons, is, well, herself.

 

(“So, how was the cruise? Sun, sand, all that? Did you bang my sister yet?”

 

“ _Zelena_.”)

 

But Emma’s favorite is most definitely her mother. Snow attack hugs her and starts what is sure to be an endless barrage of questions, but Emma interrupts her.

 

“You can ask us again.”

 

Snow frowns.

 

“Ask you what?”

 

“If we’re dating yet.”

 

“Oh, did you meet someone on the cruise? Emma, that’s wonderful-”

 

“No, Mom, the question.”

 

“Okayyyy. Are you two dating yet?”

 

“Yes,” Emma says and leans in, Regina pecking her lightly on the lips before she pulls back again, and Emma’s grin is so wide it hurts. “Yes, we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Writers and artists spent months creating the fics and art you enjoy - it would mean the world to them if you commented to tell them what you liked! The SQSupernova team is also sponsoring a contest for commenters, and you can find out more [here](http://sqsupernova.tumblr.com/post/164792441694/announcing-the-sqsn-comments-contest-a-reward-for).


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